2006-05-26 - 8:27 a.m.
I may have found my bar here in Philadelphia. It's the place I went for my birthday. It's called The Ministry of Information. The atmosphere is divier than my bar in Madison, The Weary Traveler, but the bar itself is more ergonomical for writing and the light is pretty good.
It doesn't get too horribly noisy in there. When you arrive in the early evening, they have good music playing, but it is not cranked up like in a lot of bars.
Now, last night they finally brought in a DJ around ten, and once he started spinning it got pretty loud. He had one of those weird DJ set ups where he "scratched" CDs. I don't really know how I feel about that to be honest, but, then again, I sort of think DJs are posers.
We had a solid time there my birthday night, but then I showed up alone last night. Everything in my first 20 minutes was a good omen. First, when the bartender saw my birthday was the 22nd, he said, "Mine is the 21st. Let's do a shot, fuck it!"
The shot he picked for us was Maker's Mark, because I looked like a bourbon guy. Good call, brother, and he didn't even end up charging me for my first gin and tonic. I'm sold.
By the time I left at about 11, the crowd was sort of hopping. An indie scene and the music had shifted to more of an 80s thing. I was sad to go, but I was spent. Plus, I'd been to the gym and hadn't showered, so I probably didn't smell too charming.
I think I got in a strong 2 hours of slightly inebriated writing, which is quality. Yes, despite their lack of beers on draught, I think the Ministry of Information is my new spot.
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